


My Master's Footsteps

by epeeblade



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, White Collar
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Canonical Character Death, F/M, M/M, Multi, White Collar Big Bang, White Collar in Star Wars universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:33:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeeblade/pseuds/epeeblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jedi Padawan Neal C'affrey returns to the Jedi Temple after the death of his Master. </p>
<p>Jedi Knight Peter Burc is tasked with continuing his training. But he is given a second mission by the Jedi Council - to see if Neal has fallen to the dark, like his former master, Vincent Adler. Peter has no choice but to agree, even though he is hiding secrets of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of people to thank for this one!
> 
> First, you should all go check out the amazing [art](http://aragarna.livejournal.com/98876.html) Aragarna created for this fic! It completely blew me away!
> 
> Thanks to my awesome betas - Auchterlonie and Wyomingnot. All errors are my own, and I blame anything on my concussion...
> 
> Finally thanks to the White Collar Big Bang mods for doing such a bang up (heh) job every year, and for actually inspiring the bunny for this fic.
> 
> This was a lot of fun to write, but I am glad it done and out here for you all to read. I think I tagged anything warning worthy, but please let me know if I missed something. Also the P/E/N is very much pre-relationship, but I couldn't figure out how to tag that.

There was a tremor in the Force.

Peter stilled as the sensation coursed through him, and he stopped his lecture in the middle of a sentence. His students grew unnaturally quiet as well. Even Jedi younglings would whisper or fidget, still impatient at this age. The classroom grew as crisp as ice.

This could not continue. “Class dismissed. Find a meditation place and center yourselves.” Peter needed to find out the source behind the strangeness.

He exited the lecture hall behind his younglings, making sure none were left or overwrought by the uneasiness in the Force, only to find Master Hues waiting for him outside the door. 

“Master.” Peter inclined his head and tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe.

Hues returned the greeting. “Come with me, Peter. We will talk on the way to the Council Chamber.”

A flash of fear coursed through him, noted and filed away. “The Council Chamber?”

Hues started to walk and Peter could only follow. It reminded him of his Padawan days, and though they were far behind him now, he couldn’t help but smile at the memory. 

“Padawan C’affrey has returned to the temple.”

That would not be news, except that meant… “Without his master?”

“Vincent Adler was killed in the field. C’affrey managed to make it back through sheer will.”

It would have to be. Peter couldn’t imagine being a Padawan reeling from a broken training bond and on the run. “The Force was with him.”

“Hmm.” Hues stopped in front of the lift. Peter knew that sound. He tensed waiting for the rest of his former Master’s words. “He needs a Master to complete his training.”

“Field knighthoods aren’t uncommon, especially in these times.” The lift doors opened, but Peter didn’t move. He knew exactly where this was heading and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Peter,” Hues said in a low voice. “It’s more than just finishing his training.” 

Peter followed him onto the lift.

“We’ve had suspicions about Adler for some time now. That he’d gone to the Dark. If C’affrey has been infected by his seed of evil, then we can’t let him into the galaxy. You’re the only one I trust with this.”

“To root out the darkness.” Peter swallowed. If Hues only knew. “Master, I’m not certain I can do that.”

“There is no try, Padawan,” Hues reminded him of the lesson all Jedi were taught as Younglings. “Don’t doubt your abilities, Peter. You did an outstanding job with Di-Ana.”

It wasn’t the same and Hues knew that. “She didn’t need a strong hand.”

“And that is what is needed here. Complete his training, Peter. Keep your senses open for any darkness. Don’t go looking if it isn’t there.”

“Yes, Master.”

The lift stopped, and he followed Hues to the Council Chamber. This room always made Peter feel small, no matter how he furthered in the ranks of the Jedi. That was the intent of the floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the massive city of Coruscant beneath them. 

As Peter entered, he could feel the waves of distress pulsing from the figure in the center. The tattered training bond needed to be tended to. C’affrey should be seen to immediately.

Peter strode forward, his robes billowing as he walked. “Masters. I believe I was sent for?”

C’affrey turned at Peter’s words. His blue eyes widened, and though it was a man who stood before him, Peter could not help but think of the child C’affrey had been. He remembered a boy, with eyes too large for his face, and the brightest presence in the Force Peter had ever seen.

***

It was him. Neal would know the sight of this man anywhere, even if the exploits of Master Peter Burc hadn’t been the tales the Padawans whispered of in the Temple halls. 

He’d know, because Peter Burc had pulled him out of the streets of Coruscant and into the ranks of the Jedi. 

Neal drew himself to his feet, tired of kneeling before the Council. “Masters? What is this?”

His head ached, and his shields were in tatters, having shredded during the long journey back to Coruscant from the Outer Rim. It took all he had to remain standing still and not sway. Neal held tightly to what remained of his dignity.

Master Yoda stepped down from his dais. “Complete your training, Master Burc will.”

Where was he ten years ago, when Neal was desperate for a Master to take him on? “With all due respect, Masters, I must decline.”

Burc strode forward. “Right now you’re suffering from a severed training bond. You aren’t thinking clearly.”

“So that means I need a new Master?” Neal bit back. He stepped away, though there wasn’t much farther he could go without stepping on a Council member. 

“That means that you need a good night’s sleep and some warm food before any talk of that.” 

Neal opened his mouth to respond - to keep fighting - but then his shoulders sagged. He didn’t have to keep fighting. He was home, safe at the Temple. His knees unlocked and he slid to the floor, unable to keep himself upright any longer. The idea of sleep sounded so good right now. “I think you might be right.”

Burc crouched next to him and held out a hand. “You’ll find that’s true most of the time.”


	2. Chapter 2

These weren’t his quarters. Neal kept his eyes closed as he vetted his surroundings. The Force hummed, and he remembered coming home to the Temple. Somehow he’d ended up in this too soft bed, in a bedroom that wasn’t his. 

Knowing he was safe, Neal opened his eyes and sat up. The bedroom could have belonged to any padawan, since all were standardized and had little more than a bed, a desk, and a closet. Neal had spent the past ten years personalizing his, and looked sadly at bare walls. 

He’d never go back to those rooms again. They belonged to Master Adler and he was dead. Neal shuddered, and pushed down the memory of Master telling him to run, right before the training bond had been ripped from his soul. 

Adler’s death haunted him, for the simple reason that Neal should have seen it coming.

The door chimed and interrupted his thoughts. Neal sat up and pushed the covers down. He was still dressed in his tunics, but without his boots. “Enter?”

A droid rolled in, dragging a cart with several boxes. Behind it came Peter Burc carrying a tray of food. “I felt you awaken. Figured you’d like some breakfast.”

“Did I sleep the night away?” Neal accepted the tray. He thought the food might make him nauseous, but the smell of it had his belly growling. When was the last time he’d had temple food? He dug into the porridge first, savoring its sweet thickness.

“And then some. You certainly needed it.” Burc gestured to the droid. “I had some clothes brought from your quarters. We can make some time to visit them later.”

Neal swallowed, the food in his belly turning to ash. “Oh.”

“Neal. I understand you need time to grieve. But Master Adler would want you to complete your training.”

Master would. But there was one thing Neal needed to understand first. “Why now? You wouldn’t take me as a Padawan when I was first eligible. What’s changed?”

Neal opened himself just a bit, trying to catch exactly what Burc was feeling when he responded. There was only a bit of confusion as Burc said, “I already had a Padawan when you became eligible.”

“But you brought me to the Temple.” Neal curled his fingers in the sheets, trying to keep his frustration from being visible. 

Burc’s eyes were gentle. “I didn’t bring you here for me, Neal. I brought you here for you.”

***

There were never any guarantees that a Force sensitive youngling would be chosen as a Padawan. Peter had seen more than one capable potential shipped off to the Agrocorps to use their talents elsewhere. He’d always known that Neal would make the cut, however.

He just didn’t know Neal had such expectations of Peter. Maybe it was because of how Peter brought Neal to the temple. Most initiates were infants, or too young to even speak, much less remember their lives before.

Neal had been seven, nearly too old. 

But Peter could not leave the child Neal had been to the streets of Coruscant, not with the way he shined with the Force. Peter hadn’t been the only one curious; he’d heard whispers for years, wondering if Neal could be the one prophesied to bring balance to the Force. 

“What does that mean, exactly?” Neal looked so very young, sitting there with the covers still over his lap. 

“It means that I wasn’t selfish enough to presume you wanted me for a Master, just because I brought you here. Now, eat your breakfast. We have a busy morning.”

To his credit, Neal obeyed, and was up and dressed in record time to follow Peter to his first class. 

“I thought you were a Jedi investigator,” Neal burst out as Peter refreshed the holoboard at the front of the classroom in preparation for his students.

“I am. But all Masters are required to do a teaching rotation. Knowledge must always be shared.” Peter could feel Neal’s curiosity, and that told him the Padawan’s shields were still shredded. Even if Neal didn’t agree to Peter taking over his training, he still needed time with a Soul healer.

They had no more time for words as the younglings trickled in. This group was particularly young, still a few years shy of being eligible to be Chosen. Peter introduced Neal at the beginning of class, and then moved swiftly into his lesson, trying to ignore the blue eyes watching him from the back of the classroom.

The little ones were challenging in their own way. So many questions! Peter answered them, and kept the class moving, falling into his usual rhythm. Before he knew it, he was ushering the younglings out the door and onto their next course.

He turned around to find Neal standing behind him. 

“Yes.”

Peter blinked. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Neal smiled, and it changed his face, making it as bright as his Force aura. “Yes, I wish to complete my training as your Padawan.”

“Was it my sunny personality?” Peter probed gently, but Neal’s shields seemed to be holding. 

“I figured if you were patient enough to deal with them, then I shouldn’t prove much of a challenge.”


	3. Chapter 3

Sometimes Neal missed Master Adler so fiercely it ached. The severed training bond would always be an empty hole, although the new bond helped. It helped more than Neal would have figured. It shouldn’t be so easy to grieve and move on.

But he was a Jedi, and there was work to do.

They’d spent the first few weeks on testing. Neal performed every kata he knew, and repeated them for Peter’s exacting standards. Some forms differed from the way Master Adler had taught him. It was frustrating.

Now he circled Peter in one of the training salles, his lightsaber ignited and glowing blue, although powered down to the lowest setting. It would only scald flesh, not sever it. This was still just training.

Peter’s own blade glowed green, and he held it almost carelessly. Was it artifice or was the man just that good? There was only one way to find out.

Neal gave up on patience and attacked. He made use of his acrobatic skills, leaping over Peter’s head and twisting in the air before coming down with his blade. Peter blocked him almost nonchalantly, not even having to move from his original stance. 

Forced backward, Neal changed tactics, moving low instead of high and putting Peter on the defensive. Just when he thought he had him, Peter switched off his lightsaber, spun and clocked Neal on the head with it.

“Remember,” he said, “It’s the attack you never expect that will get you in the end.”

Neal grinned. “You didn’t say we were allowed to fight dirty.”

“There’s a great deal I didn’t say.” Peter stepped back and hooked his lightsaber on his belt. “We’re done for today, Padawan.”

“Yes, Master.” It was early to be done, but Neal still hadn’t figured out the ebs and flows of life as Peter Burc’s padawan. 

“This evening I am engaged elsewhere. Feel free to enjoy some time for yourself.” Peter didn’t look at Neal as he spoke. 

For the first time, Neal sensed absolutely nothing from the training bond. That meant Peter was deliberately hiding something from him. What kind of engagement was he heading out to? Any other time, Neal would follow and find out.

But this was the first time he’d be able to escape the Temple since he arrived home. Neal itched to get out and into the city. “Yes, Master. Enjoy your evening.”

“Yours as well, Padawan.”

Back in his quarters, Neal slipped into street clothes, tucking his Padawan braid behind his ear and down the back of his shirt. Right now the braid came nearly to his waist, and though it was a source of pride, he needed to hide it before heading down to Coco town. Neal did not want to be marked as a Jedi tonight. 

It had been a long time since Neal had been to the Commercial Commerce district. Yet, no matter how long he spent away, somehow this place never changed.

That was how he knew to go to Dex’s Diner, instead of a myriad of other places, to find Mozzie. 

Neal stood in the doorway, watching as his old friend performed an old classic at the counter. Mozzie had three metal cups that he skillfully slid around the surface of the bar. “As you can see, the ball is here.” He lifted the center cup, revealing a tiny hovering silver ball. “Double your money, gentlemen, if you can find it a second time.”

Mozzie covered the ball and started to twist and shift the cups. He moved fast, almost too fast for a human. When he finished, the mark pointed to the cup on the left, but there was nothing inside. 

“That’s bantha poo doo. The ball was right there, sleemo…”

Mozzie didn’t lose his cool as he collected his credits. “Sorry, you know how these things go…”

“We gonna have a problem?” Dex himself had come from behind the fry station, and the three humans who’d been playing Mozzie looked up at the giant gray Besalisk before shaking their heads and running out of the diner.

Neal stepped out of their way. He grinned as he strode inside, hopping on the bar stool next to Mozzie. “Care for another round?”

“Never play cups with a Jedi.” Mozzie didn’t even jump. “They cheat.”

“Oh, it’s the Jedi who cheat?” Neal lifted his hand, and the ball came sailing out of Mozzie's pocket and into his palm.

Mozzie took the ball back. “It’s not cheating. It’s an expected part of the experience.”

Neal laughed. “Of course it is.”

Mozzie signaled Dex. “Two fizzpops, please, Dex. I’ll be in my booth.”

“Your booth, you should start paying rent on it.” Dex grumbled. He gave Neal a nod, which Neal returned.

Neal slid out off of the stool and followed Mozzie to the back of the diner. This booth had a clear view of the entrance, and a quick exit out the back. “Fizzpop? You going straight, old friend?”

“The night is young, kid.” Mozzie grinned. “Now, what are you doing here? I believe you said something about taking your training seriously.”

“Yes. The final years of a Padawan’s training are the most intense…” Neal stopped himself. He could go on about the mission schedule, how he hadn’t expected to be home, not like this. With the way he and Adler had torn through their missions, Neal had fully expected to come back to Coruscant a knight. “Honestly, I wasn’t scheduled to be back on planet for another year.”

“What’s Adler up to now?”

“Master Adler is...dead.” The words were hard to say. He could have gone with ‘passed into the Force,’ but the euphemism didn’t do it justice. His master’s presence had been ripped from Neal’s mind. It had left a hole behind.

Mozzie grimaced. “My sympathies. But does that mean congratulations are in order? That makes you a knight, correct?”

Neal shook his head. “No. I’ve been paired with another master to complete my training.”

“Isn’t that a bit, unusual?” Mozzie’s entire body thrummed. He’d been raised by various non-human races, so sometimes it looked like he was trying to move appendages he didn’t have.

“Yeah, it is.” Neal looked out the large windows, out onto the expanse of Coruscant in the distance. He should have been granted a field promotion. There had to be a reason they’d given him to Peter Burc and Neal had to wonder why.

He hated having this doubt. Neal actually liked Burc, had only agreed to the arrangement after watching the man teach the younglings. He wasn’t the most natural of teachers, but the young ones flocked to him, to this stability and strength, his inner core of self that glowed in the Force. 

“So, what, do former street rats not get to be Jedi Knights?” Mozzie was all set to be affronted on his behalf.

“I don’t think that’s it.” Neal held up his hand to prevent Mozzie going on in that vein. His circumstances were unusual, yes, but once he’d been given his braid, Neal doubted there’d been an effort to keep him from the knighthood. He’d have been shipped off to the Agrocorps then, a fate he’d been terrified of until Adler had asked him to be his Padawan. “I think…”

He couldn’t speak. Neal’s body flushed with heat and for a moment he was engulfed with the most intense sense of arousal in his life. It reminded him of that first time with Kate, before Adler had found out, and stole Neal halfway across the galaxy to get away from her. There was the flash of desire, but mostly the undercurrent of love.

It took him a good minute before Neal realized what this was. Peter. Feedback must be coming through the training bond.

Neal closed his eyes and centered himself, following that thread back through to Peter’s half of the connection. To his shock, Peter’s shields were still up and perfectly solid. The training bond gave a sort of open access, but Neal had never heard of anything like this happening.

For a moment he caught sight of her - Peter’s lover - dark hair and bright blue eyes and a soft smile.

Neal came back to himself with a gasp, grasping the table and waving away Mozzie’s offer of a harder drink. “I think I know why they did it. They want me to spy on Peter Burc.”


	4. Chapter 4

How many times was he going to do this? Every time, Peter told himself it would be the last, that this time he’d say goodbye to Elizabeth and mean it. 

But then he found himself outside her apartment door yet again. 

Sex wasn’t forbidden. That was one of the rumors about the Jedi whispered in the streets and across the galaxy. Peter had heard the dirty joke, walked past the snickers and knew better than to address it.

No. It was attachments. Attachments distracted from the path of the Force. And Peter was under no illusions about the very real attachment that wrapped around him and kept him bound to Elizabeth.

The door slid open before he even hit the chime. Sometimes Peter wondered if she were Force sensitive herself. 

“Peter.” She bit her lip. “I was surprised by your message.”

Peter drank her in like this was the last time he’d see her - dark hair let loose in messy waves, a smile that curved softly, a twinkle in her eye. Elizabeth wore simple gray sleep pants, and he didn’t know if he’d interrupted a quiet night or if she was trying to prove something.

“I know.” He’d had to cancel on her before, the night he’d been given Neal. Peter couldn’t explain then, and he hadn’t had a chance to talk to her until now.

He’d had to be sure that his shields were tight, that Neal wouldn’t even guess at his secret. Peter was supposed to ferret out darkness in his Padawan. How could his masters possibly know about the darkness Peter himself harbored?

Her shoulders dropped. “You look like a wet bantha. Come in.”

Peter bristled. “I don’t look that bad.”

“You kinda do. Sit. I’ll make some tea.”

Peter took off his robe and hung it carefully on the hook beside her entranceway. He never hid what he was. But then again, Elizabeth never asked him to.

He settled onto her couch, melting into the cushions. It wasn’t until he sat that Peter felt the rush of stress flow through him. He could close his eyes and fall asleep right here. He might have dozed off when he heard El clear her throat. 

Peter startled, then rubbed his forehead and sighed. “It’s been a very busy few weeks.”

She handed him a warm mug of steaming hot tea before curling against him. Peter leaned into her, breathing in her scent - like flowers and vanilla. “Tell me?”

This was why she was so dangerous. “I was assigned a Padawan.”

“A child?” 

Peter shook his head. She knew how Padawans were chosen, and he wondered what she would think if he had acquired a youngling to look after. “Neal is 24. His master was killed and well, it falls to me to complete his training.”

She wrinkled her nose. Peter found it endearing and stopped himself from bending down to kiss it. “Isn’t that odd?”

“It’s unusual, yes.” He closed his eyes once more. Of course she’d catch that. Peter had been telling her about his life as a Jedi for years. Ever since they’d first met - while he was investigating illegal smuggling of Corellian art - Peter found himself telling her too much. It was just so easy to talk to her. “It’s more than that. Neal’s master - there’s been suspicion about him going dark for a while now.”

“And they want you to make sure that Neal doesn’t?”

Peter stilled. She was absolutely right. He’d been approaching this all wrong. Instead of looking FOR the darkness in Neal, he should have been focused on guiding him in the Light. “Yes,” he told her. “That’s exactly it.”

She tilted her head up, just so, and Peter had to kiss her. His lips hungered for her, and a simple kiss turned hot and wet far too quickly.

He knew her body, like his own. She was creamy and soft, yet strong and firm beneath his fingertips. And when she cried out, Peter took her pleasure, filling with the Force. All was light, white unifying light, and he never felt so connected to the universe.

To Elizabeth.

***

Much later and feeling more settled, Peter returned home. He found Neal stripped to the waist, doing pushups in the common room. His body glistened with sweat and Peter took a moment to appreciate the form of a body in its prime - all finely cut muscle and honed precision.

Maybe it was the flush of the evening still with him. Peter was far too grounded in the physical at the moment.

“Busy night, Padawan?” Peter asked. At least Neal hadn’t gotten into any trouble. And the casual way he went about his exercises meant he couldn’t have picked up any stray thoughts from Peter’s end of the training bond. 

Neal got to his feet in one smooth motion. He wiped his brow and Peter found himself fascinated by the way wet strands of hair clung to Neal’s skin. “What was I supposed to have done?”

“Perhaps have a night out with friends? Your age mates?”

“Anyone I know is off planet - on missions.” The words held no bite, thought Peter caught the merest hint of frustration in the Force.

He came by that frustration honestly. Peter took off his robe, conscious of how he’d done the same thing at Elizabeth’s apartment. “If you can hold out until the term ends, we’ll be back on the mission rotation then.”

Neal looked away. “Oh.”

“Indeed. I’ll have a data chit with my past missions ready for you in the morning. It’s a good idea for you to study them.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Neal hurried to his bedroom, barely able to look Peter in the eye. Every time that dark gaze met his, heat would rise in him, calling up the memory of the arousal that had so overtaken him in the diner. 

He didn’t understand. The training bond didn’t work this way - it shouldn’t work this way. Neal dropped his head into his hands. 

It had so taken him by surprise, that he’d admitted the truth to Mozzie despite himself.  
 _  
“So the robe has a piece of tail on the side?”_

_“Don’t call him that.”_

_“Still, this could prove useful, Neal. Never look a gift bantha in the mouth.”_  
  
Peter Burc - the noblest Jedi Neal knew - violating the code. Neal couldn’t reconcile the two in his head. Was he supposed to go to Master Yoda with this evidence? Could this possibly be a test?

Or was he truly put here to watch and learn - to discover what else Peter was hiding?

They were at war. The very fabric of the Republic was in danger. The Sith were out there. Neal had to be vigilant. Even if it meant against his own master.

If he could fight against this heat that now sparked between them. The leak in the training bond had opened something in Neal, and he wasn’t certain he could close it again.

***

Days later, Neal still couldn't settle. He followed Peter to his classes, and dutifully kept up with his exercises, but his mind remained clouded. 

“What is your meditation focus?”

Neal blinked at the question. “You mean, what do I focus on when I meditate?”

He and Peter knelt across from each other in one of the Temple’s many meditation rooms. They had the place to themselves - so many Jedi were out on assignment. Still, that meant the place felt cavernous, and not really conducive to meditation. Neal would really prefer to be doing this exercise in the gardens, but Peter had brought him here, so he obeyed. 

Peter shifted on his mat. “I mean a literal focus - an object you hold that helps direct your meditation.”

“I’m not a youngling who can’t calm his mind,” Neal snapped, probably a bit snippier than he’d intended. 

Ever since Peter had returned from his liaison, Neal had found himself uneasy. He’d been unable to explain the way desire had flown through the bond, and yet Peter himself had been unaware.

And there was that other problem too. Should Neal have brought Peter’s actions to Master Yoda? Was this a test of his loyalties? But if so, what was the right course of action? Should he back his own master, no matter what?

With Master Adler the course had been clear - always protect his master. 

But he and Peter were still getting to know each other. Neal didn’t quite know how to act. So instead, he watched and waited, looking for guidance where he could find it. 

“That isn’t what I asked.” Peter didn’t look perturbed at Neal’s outburst. “But I take it from your answer that you don’t have one.”

Abashed, Neal ducked his head. “No.”

“Then let me give you one.” Peter held out his hand, and on his palm was a tiny jade carving. “My own master gave me something similar, but this is uniquely yours.”

Neal took it, feeling it buzz against his skin as he touched it. The tiny object all but thrummed with the Force. “What is it?”

“It’s something I picked up on a mission to Corellia.”

Neal was touched. This meant something to Peter, and now he was giving it to Neal. “I will treasure it.”

Peter smiled. “Let’s see if it works, first.”

Keeping the tiny figure in the palm of one hand, Neal closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders. He didn’t need Peter to lead him into meditation. He really wasn’t a green youngling who needed the help. But something about the Force pulsing from the stone in his palm drew him down quickly, into a vision of the planet Corellia.

He saw a very young Peter - so young a Padawan braid still swung from behind his ear - in a street market, laughing at something. 

Neal slid easily into the training bond, meaning to share the vision with Peter and gently tease him about it. But once there, he found once again Peter hadn’t sensed him, couldn’t have sensed him, because his thoughts were clearly on his lover.

Neal couldn't blame him, she was lovely. But it wasn’t just the memory of Peter’s desire, of the time he spent with her that caught him. Emotions swirled in Peter’s psyche, and they echoed strongly, resonating down into Neal. One beat hard behind his heart, so much tenderness that it made Neal hurt.

And Peter was trying to push it all away.

Neal came out of meditation with tears on his cheeks. He wiped them away before Peter could see. 

Peter’s attachment might be against the Jedi Code, but it wasn’t evil, it wasn’t Dark. Neal didn’t know what kind of test this was, but he wouldn’t tell a soul about Peter’s lover.


	5. Chapter 5

The term passed quickly, time flying by as Neal immersed himself in training and learning about Peter’s previous missions. 

Peter visited his lover three times during the semester, each time coming back relaxed and filled with the light of the Force. He never seemed to notice his trips were bleeding through the training bond.

Neal spent those nights in his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock, riding the waves of arousal to completion. Sometimes he’d catch a glimpse in his mind’s eye, of Peter entwined with the beautiful woman he called lover. He stopped feeling guilty about it - guilt was a useless emotion he released to the Force. 

But now every time he looked at Peter, Neal felt something. He couldn’t help but remember those nights, and seeing Peter right now, standing in front of the classroom, commanding the room with his presence, nearly set Neal off again.

They were surrounded by younglings, so Neal carefully kept himself in check. 

Not that it was difficult. The little ones hung on Peter’s every word, all upset that this would be their final class with him. Neal smiled as they exited the classroom for the last time. He couldn’t blame them, really.

“Padawan Neal?” One of the younglings came up to him where he stood in the back of the classroom. She was a talented Calamarin. “Thank you for your help!”

Neal flushed. “I didn’t do much…” Before he could get out much more, she rushed forward and hugged him.

As soon as she touched him, something snapped in Neal’s vision. The classroom disappeared and was replaced by flames. The Temple was burning, and he could see this youngling on the ground, blood covering her chest and her mouth frozen open. 

He staggered backward, blinking the classroom back into focus. The girl didn’t seem to notice what had happened. She merely waved and headed out the door. 

Why was this happening? Neal recognized the event for what it was - a vision of the future. But he’d never shown any tendencies toward precognition before. Those Jedi who had were trained directly by Master Yoda.

Perhaps it had something to do with Master Adler’s death? Maybe breaking the training bond had set something off in his brain?

“Neal? Are you coming?” Peter waited with his things packed up.

Neal moved to gather his things. “Yes, Master. Um. Where are we going?”

He’d have to tell Peter. Just, not now, not while the vision was so fresh and he could still smell ash and flame.

“We’re back on the mission roster, Padawan. Let’s go get one.”

Neal tucked his trembling hands into the arms of his robe and followed Peter. He pushed the memory of the vision aside, leaving it to deconstruct during meditation. 

Soon enough, they entered one of the many conference rooms in the temple. Here, he’d stood beside Master Adler, receiving mission protocols and planning out the best strategy.

It felt strange to stand here with Peter now. It was like getting punched with Adler’s death all over again. 

And then Neal immediately felt guilty for not missing Adler these past few months. 

“Padawan, I’d like you to meet Knight Di-Ana Berrigan and Knight Clin Jonz.” Peter introduced him to the two strangers already waiting in the room.

Neal stiffened at the sight of Knight Berrigan, who scowled at him. She’d been Peter’s first Padawan. The other knight, Jonz, was one of the few Zabrackian Jedi. He had tiny horns the same dark color of his skin, which gave him an almost sinister look, until he smiled.

“Pleasure to meet you, Padawan C’affrey.”

“Neal, please.” Neal nodded politely.

They all sat around the oval table, except for Jonz, who stood next to the holo projector. “Thank you for taking this mission, Master Burc.”

“We haven’t agreed yet. Let’s hear the details, first.”

Jonz nodded and his expression turned fierce. “Death sticks. It’s always death sticks, but this is a particularly bad batch. It’s poisoned - laced with something that causes instant death.”

“Instead of instant addiction and protracted death?” Peter scowled and leaned forward. Neal could feel the anger through the training bond. “How many deaths?”

“Twelve so far.” Jonz pulled up a hologram showing a map of the city streets of Coruscant. There were several well-known Coco clubs highlighted with red lights. “Lucky it hasn’t been worse. Unfortunately we haven’t been able to figure out where they are coming from. It’s a few sticks out of a larger batch, so someone is tainting already established dealers’ goods.”

Neal stared at the hologram, tuning out some of the conversation as he concentrated, falling into a semi meditative state. His vision blurred, and then crystallized into sudden clarity. “There,” he interrupted, pointing to another club on the map. “They’ll strike there next.”

“How do you know?” Di-Ana’s voice broke his concentration with its sharpness.

He turned away from her judging gaze and met Peter’s eyes. “I sensed it. I just know.”

Peter didn’t say anything for a moment but he held Neal’s gaze for a moment before nodding. “Is this a talent you’ve shown before, Padawan?”

“Sometimes.” Never consistently. He bit his lip and hoped the vision he’d seen earlier wouldn’t come to pass. 

“All right. Let’s make plans to check out this place tonight.” 

Di-Ana turned to Jonz. “We can question the owner this afternoon…”

“No,” Neal shook his head. “We go in like that and we’ll spook whoever is behind the attacks. I can go in as a patron and check the place out. I used to do things like that with Adler all the time.”

Di-Ana frowned. “I’ve read up on Master Adler’s mission files.”

“So you know I can do it.”

“I know that Master Adler got as close to the line as he could without crossing it.” Di-Ana turned to Peter. “Master, using Adler’s tactics would only bring us closer to the Dark side.”

“Excuse me?” Neal burst out. What right did she have to question his Master?

Former Master. He forgot, sometimes he still forgot.

“Padawan, enough.” Peter held up his hands. 

It took Neal a moment to realize Peter was talking about Di-Ana and he bristled. “I can do it.”

“That’s not in doubt, Padawan.” Peter sighed. “The question is - should we? Is this the best way of catching whoever is doing this horrible thing?”

“Yes,” Neal insisted, his heart pounding with the rightness of it.

Peter nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do. Jonz? Find out what you can about this club. Who owns it, what kind of operations are run out of it. Neal, get a list of what you need in order to infiltrate the place. Di-Ana, you and I will run the perimeter. Let’s get to work.”

***

“So what do you think?”

Peter didn’t have time for this conversation with Hues. He needed to go, make sure Neal was all right on his mission. But duty first. “I haven’t sensed darkness in him.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not there. Sith are clever, Peter.”

The thought that Neal could be a Sith was ludicrous. Peter opened his mouth to say so, but something held his tongue.

Because he knew Neal was hiding things. The training bond went both ways, and he could feel it, right when Neal was about to say something, but didn’t. “I’ll keep an eye on him. But eventually we’re going to have to let him take the Trials.”

“Do we? You’re the one who says when he’s ready, Peter. No one else.”

No one indeed.


	6. Chapter 6

Neal settled into his seat at the bar, stirring something purple in a glass that he had no intention of drinking. He wore his typical clubbing gear - all black, high collar for hiding his padawan braid - but it was a little too young for this place. The Blue Sabriquet was a classy joint, where a live band played smooth music and hip couples worked the dance floor.

This didn’t look like the kind of club one would even find death sticks. But Neal had seen enough of the galaxy to know that the damn things were so addictive they caught all kinds. 

Something had his senses on fire, though, and Neal scanned the room again, trying to spot why. 

It was hard to concentrate on the mission. He couldn’t get the earlier conversation out of his head. At first he had been angry at Di-Ana’s accusations about Master Adler, but something kept whispering inside him - what if she was right? Neal found himself questioning all of his missions, wondering just how close to the line Adler took them. 

“Excuse me, sir.” 

Neal smiled at the bartender. “Still working on this one, thanks.”

“If you’d come with me, please?”

This might be it. Neal felt for his lightsaber, hidden beneath his tunic, before following the bartender toward the back of the club. The music wasn’t quite so loud back here, but still could be heard. The bartender gestured to a luxurious booth, upholstered with plush fabric in shades of dark blue. It was curved and could be closed off from the room. 

“Have a seat, Padawan C’affrey,” a melodious voice said from within.

Neal swallowed and slid inside. The voice belonged to an older Twi’lek woman wearing a soft turquoise gown and a golden headpiece over her tendrils. She smiled and Neal immediately felt at ease. She was bright in the Force, and clearly not his target for the evening. 

“You have the advantage of me, Madam.” He put on his most disarming expression. 

“J’une. I am the owner of this establishment.” She pressed her lips together. “And I demand to know what the Jedi want here.”

“What gave me away?” Neal had hidden his braid expertly. He’d learned to move differently, to lose his inherent Jedi grace. 

She leaned forward, her tendrils waving in specific patterns. If Neal spoke Twi’lek, he’d be able to see what she was really saying. “I admit I cheated. We have a mutual friend.”

“Mozzie.” Of course. Neal had commed Mozzie earlier to get intel on this club. 

“The little one gets around.” J’une smile. “Tell me, Padawan C’affrey…”

“Neal, please.”

“Neal. What do the Jedi want with my establishment?”

Neal leaned forward and folded his hands, stalling for time. He opened himself to the Force and listened to his instincts. They told him he could trust J’une. “It’s not your establishment, not really. Someone is selling poisoned death sticks.”

She bristled, and any goodwill she’d displayed disappeared under the ice that overtook her. “I don’t allow death sticks here. Anyone selling is shown the door. I have very good bouncers.”

“That might be so, but…” Neal trailed off, the back of his neck prickling. He turned, and caught sight of a man in a black cloak approaching a table not too far from them. The man had a box in his arms, and he presented it to the people there.

Once of J’une’s bouncers strode across the room. He was a sturdy looking man, and his hand hovered over the blaster attached to his hip. “Excuse me, sir.”

Neal got to his feet. He was aware of J’une following, but couldn’t stop, not when the Force pulsed so urgently.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Death sticks aren’t permitted here.”

The man in black whirled, moving too fast. He lifted one arm and curved his fingers into a fist. The bouncer began to choke and he grasped at his throat.

“Felix!” J’une cried.

Neal unsheathed his lightsaber and ignited it, charging the Force user. Hopefully the distraction would get his enemy to drop the concentration necessary to keep choking poor Felix. 

“Ah, C’affrey, it’s about time.” The stranger flicked his hand, and Felix was thrown across the room. Screams echoed throughout the club and people started to run.

The man threw off his cloak and ignited a lightsaber with a red blade.

“Everyone seems to know my name, today.” Neal hid his gasp. A red blade could mean only one thing - a Sith.

“You may call me Ke’llar.” The Sith grinned. “I’ll hear it on your lips as you die on my saber.”

Neal moved into a defensive crouch, bringing his saber to guard position. “J’une, clear the club.”

He vaguely noticed when she shouted “everyone out!” and the way the bouncers flung into action getting the civilians to safety.

Neal was too focused on the sudden jarring attack, the whirling red blade that had him backing away, losing ground with each strike. He tried to take the Sith’s measure, figure out the best way to counter attack.

A chair on the floor nearly tripped him up, and Neal leapt over it, bouncing on his toes as he tried to recover. 

Ke’llar chuckled and pressed the attack, their blades meeting in a sizzling hiss. It took all of Neal’s strength to push him away.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy? Never learned how to really fight?” 

A bead of sweat rolled down Neal’s forehead, clinging to his nose and irritating him. Neal adjusted his grip, still trying to do anything more than defend.

“Or maybe your master didn’t want you to fight. Maybe he wanted to teach you something else.” The Sith made a lewd gesture with his tongue.

And Neal saw red.

The anger rose in him, swirling like a living thing. But everything around him seemed to slow. The Sith moved in for an attack, and Neal countered with ease. Then again. He started to move forward, backing the Sith into a corner.

The club wasn’t very large after all.

This would be much easier if the Sith didn’t have his weapon. Neal feinted, drawing his enemy in, and with a single swipe, had the Sith’s hand separated from his arm.

The thud as the hand hit the floor, and the sound of the lightsaber disengaging, was like cold water flung over Neal. He gasped, the sudden trance like state gone.

Howling, the Sith turned and jumped through one of the floor to ceiling windows, shattering the glass. 

Neal fell to his knees. His lightsaber clattered to the floor. He was still in that position when Peter found him.

“Neal. What have you done?”

***

"And he was just kneeling there with the …" Peter trailed off. He wiped his hand across his mouth and got control of himself. 

Elizabeth sat on the couch, a glass in one hand. She had poured them both something stronger than tea this time. “But he defeated the Sith? I thought that was a good thing."

Peter stopped pacing and sat down. “That’s not how the Council sees it.”  
 _  
“You fought in anger. A Jedi never fights in anger.”_

_“I fought a Sith.” Neal had stood with his hands tucked in his robe. He stared straight ahead, not meeting the eyes of any of the council members._

_Peter could sense nothing from him._

_“This is Coruscant, the home of the Jedi Temple. If it had been a Sith, would we not have sensed it?”  
_  
“The Council doesn’t even believe he fought a Sith.” Peter buried his face in his hands. He’d been so concerned about Neal striking out in anger that he hadn’t even guessed the Council would not believe his Padawan’s words.

“But you do.”

The past few months, Peter had looked for darkness in Neal. But he’d only seen the bright aura of the Force that had attracted him to a young boy in the streets of Coruscant in the first place. It made him wonder what was really behind the focus on Neal. “Yes. I do.”

El reached out and grasped his hand. Peter laced their fingers together and let the tension and stress leech out of him. Her support meant everything right now. “What did the Council do to Neal?”

“They’re going to investigate the events at the club. Neal is restricted to the Temple while they do it.”

“That seems awfully short sighted.” El frowned. “Especially how spread thin you are right now.”

War raged outside the safety of Coruscant. Peter had been able to forget about it for a little while during his teaching rotation - focusing on the bright new Jedi minds - but El brought the whole thing back. And she was right, it didn’t make sense. 

Even now, Di-Ana and Jonz were being sent off planet, to pair with clone soldiers and root out more separatists. He and Neal would have been meant for the same, except for this.

Someone wanted Neal to stay on Coruscant and Peter had to figure out why.

***

Neal popped out of meditation, his heart racing and fear turning his veins to ice. Usually he emerged calmer, more centered in the Force. But he couldn’t find his center. 

Of course he couldn’t, not after the Council had dismissed him and Peter had sent him to bed like a recalcitrant child. Neal got to his feet, not bothering to clean up his meditation mat or the flickering candle he'd used for focus. The sun’s rays pierced the gloom of Coruscant’s skies and shined into his room. 

There was a Sith out there. No matter what the Council said, Neal knew it to be truth. He’d hoped Peter had believed him, but his master hadn’t said anything other than for Neal to get some rest.

Where was Peter now? Neal ventured out into the common room and found it empty. He closed his eyes and pulled on the thread that bound them together.

Neal did not expect the vivid picture that appeared behind his eyes. Peter sat with his lover, in her apartment, which appeared as clear as a hologram. What was more, he could sense Peter’s anguish, and the way El drew it out of him.

Gasping, he opened his eyes and pulled out of the training bond. What was happening to him?

He reached for his comm and enabled the setting that made it untraceable. “Mozzie, I’m going to need you to pick me up.”

They couldn’t keep him in the Temple. No one knew this place like Neal, the hidey holes in the gardens, and the many places one could slip away. 

Still, even as he rocked away from the Temple, safely ensconced in Mozzie’s hover car, Neal wondered why no one had tried to stop him. He wasn’t even under guard. Did they have that much faith in Peter’s guardianship?

Or did they want him to leave?

“What’s going through that Jedi brain of yours?” Mozzie looked at Neal long enough to nearly collide with a support pillar.

“Eyes on the skies!” Neal snapped. “Take me to the Blue Sabriquet.” 

There were too many questions he needed answer to, and the club was the best place to start. 

“Are you sure about that? You kinda trashed the place last night.”

“Yeah, well we have to have a discussion about you giving me away.”

“J’une and I go back a long time…” Mozzie said.

At his words Neal felt the cruiser drop away, and his vision was taken up by that of a young boy, looking up at an obviously much younger J’une, who smiled down at him. He shook himself back to the present with a start.

“...and she deserved to know if the Jedi were on her tails about something.” Mozzie looked over and clearly something showed in Neal’s face. “Neal, are you all right?”

“I’m not sure.” Another vision, this time of the past, Neal was sure. He shouldn’t have put off having that discussion with Peter. All of this was connected, somehow - Neal’s visions, the Sith, even Peter and Master Adler. He just couldn’t see how.

When they returned to the Blue Sabriquet all was quiet, except for a few droids sweeping up broken glass and replacing the window. The back of Neal’s neck prickled and he could almost see the battle that had been fought here. The Sith had left behind a stain, a seeping oil of darkness that would take time to get out.

“Welcome back.”

Neal started at the sound of J’une’s voice, and he really should not have. He could sense her through the Force, lit up in the way everything seemed to be now after the fight.

Had the Sith unlocked something within him?

“I’m sorry about the damage.” None of this was her fault, and J’une deserved better than however the Jedi Council was going to spin this. 

She waved her tendrils. “Nobody was hurt, and that is far more important than some glass.”

“That bouncer?”

“Felix is fine - thanks to you.” J’une smiled. “Mozzie, you know where the good Rodian wine is.”

“I shall help myself!” Mozzie disappeared behind the bar. He looked at home there. 

Luckily the fight had not disturbed the bar, or the sabriquet enclosed in glass behind the bottles. Neal tilted his head. “The instrument this place is named after?”

J’une sat on one of the few intact chairs. “It belonged to my husband, Byron. He won it in a sabaac game on Tatooine, so of course, he taught himself to play it. That was before he knew me. Thank you, Mozzie.”

Mozzie had returned to the table with the wine. He poured a large glass for J’une. She swirled the liquid around and around, but didn’t drink.

Neal sat across from her. “How did you meet him?”

“My dear, I think you’re too young for that story.” She winked and laughed. Then after a moment, the levity disappeared from her face and she looked almost sad.

Neal stretched his new senses, and caught sight of a slave girl in chains, and a man with kind eyes handing her a key. The image wiped away quickly, but he could still feel the love that echoed from the past, and with a start, he realized the emotion was coming from J’une. A little bit of the darkness had been washed away from the club, and he was glad.

“You still love him,” Neal murmured. 

She narrowed her eyes, and her tendrils wavered. “Of course. Haven’t you ever loved, Jedi?”

He laughed. “There was once a girl I thought I did. But Master Adler swept us off planet so fast...I never knew what happened to her.” Neal had been a good little Jedi and not tried to contact Kate. But what if he had? Would he have that sense of love and peace that filled J’une?

The same love that he sensed in Peter when his master was with his lover?

“Why are you here, Neal? If you feel guilty about the broken glass, trust me, the droids can take care of it.” J’une finally sipped her wine.

“I needed to get away from the Temple,” he answered honestly. “And it all came together here. The Sith was looking for me, specifically. It knew I would be here. And when we were planning the mission, Di-Ana said Master Adler always pushed me to the line between light and dark…” Neal trailed off. “I’m sorry. None of that probably makes much sense to you.”

J’une laughed. “I used to be a bartender, you know. I’ve heard a lot of things that don’t make sense. Sometimes it helps to have someone to talk to, even if all they do is listen.”

She was right, but Neal realized she wasn’t the person he needed to talk to right now. It was time to talk to Peter. “Thank you, J’une. You’ve helped more than you know.”


	7. Chapter 7

El’s door chimed, and it startled Peter, who’d been dozing against her shoulder. She untangled herself from his arms. “Who could that be?”

Peter felt a prickle at the back of his mind, and he opened his mouth to tell her not to answer it.

Before she could even move, the door slid open on its own. Peter got to his feet, stunned to see Neal striding into El’s apartment.

He stood between El and Neal, not certain what the sudden presence of his Padawan meant.

“Oh, Peter.” Neal’s expression went soft. “It IS more than just sex, isn’t it?”

“Neal, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be confined to quarters.”

“I’m here because it’s time we talk.” Neal leaned over to meet El’s eyes. “Hello, Elizabeth. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

To Peter’s horror, Elizabeth stepped around him, and held out her hand for Neal to shake. “Thank you, Neal, it’s lovely you meet you as well. Peter talks about you quite a bit.”

"Neal, how did you know?" Peter's heart thundered in his throat. He'd always feared discovery, and now that it had happened, he could not stop the panic flooding his veins.

Had the council sent Neal? Had Peter's entire assignment been nothing more than an attempt to catch Peter?

Neal grew serious, the smile he had favored Elizabeth with fading. “Every time you were with her, I felt it through the training bond.”

“You don’t mean... that’s impossible. I was shielded.” Peter knew how bonds worked. He'd taken so much care to make sure nothing leaked out.

“Well, that’s what we need to talk about.” Neal met his eyes and Peter nearly took a step back when he heard Neal’s voice in his mind. Hello, Peter.

It wasn’t unheard of for master/padawan teams to develop telepathy, but it was often after years of rapport, not merely months. “You’ve been hiding this from me.”

“No. Yes. Well, not the way you’re thinking.”

“I think,” El interrupted, “That I should brew some tea, and you both should sit down and talk.” She brushed past Peter on the way to the kitchen and kissed his cheek to whisper, “Go easy on him. I think this is going to be a long story.”

She always had a sense about people. Peter figured it had to be some low level force sensitivity. “You’re right.”

He and Neal sat across from each other on El's dove gray couches.

“At first I thought you might have forgotten to shield properly.” Neal had curled his hands in the sleeves of his robes, and hunched over. “Then I thought that maybe the Council had placed me with you on purpose, to catch you in some sort of wrongdoing. That maybe it was a test.”

“Neal…”

“I know. It seems ridiculous now. Imagine me, keeping an eye on you?”

“It was a test,” Peter said quietly. Neal’s head snapped up. “But not the kind you thought. They asked me to pair with you to make sure there wasn’t any Dark in you. There are suspicions about Adler, and the Council was worried he’d tainted you in some way.”

Neal got to his feet and started to pace. “That makes so much sense. There were pieces missing....The Sith knew me, Peter.” He whirled around. “He kept taunting me about my master. At the time I thought he meant you, but, maybe it was Adler.”

“Adler was working with the Sith?” Peter frowned. 

“I don’t know." Neal ran his hand through his hair, messing it up yet somehow making him even more attractive. "All I can say is that my proficiency with the Force has been increasing since Adlers death.”

Peter hesitated before responding. He watched Neal’s pacing grow more frenetic and knew he had to speak. “I don’t suppose Adler taught you about the prophecy of the Chosen One.”

Neal stopped in mid-step. “Of course. Who hasn’t heard of it?”

Peter could see El in the doorway, holding a tray of tea, but she stilled at his look and waited instead of interrupting. “Did he tell you we thought it was about you?”

“What?” Neal shook his head, then caught himself and rubbed his temples. “Why?”

“When I found you, as a boy, you were so filled with the Force, despite never having been trained.” Peter narrowed his eyes, and looked at Neal again, feeling the way the Force bended around him. “Neal!”

Neal had fallen to his knees. Peter heard the tray clatter to the floor as El joined him next to Neal. 

“Peter, something terrible is about to happen,” Neal whispered. “At the Temple. I see blood and death everywhere…”

As Peter touched Neal’s shoulder, he felt cold jolt through his arm. “Can you see the cause? We can stop it if we have enough time. Remember what Master Yoda teaches - always in motion the future is.”

Neal shook his head. “We have to go, now.”

“All right.” Peter turned to El. “We have to go. I will comm you once we get this sorted.”

She drew him in for a kiss, pressing their foreheads together for a moment. “Be safe.” To his surprise, she then hugged Neal, and whispered something in his ear. 

Neal drew back and gave her a wide-eyed look while El only smiled.

The sight of the two of them together made Peter’s heart pound, though he didn’t quite understand why, not until he and Neal were out in the hallway, heading for the lift. 

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, “If I had known about what was bleeding through the bond…”

“Don’t be,” Neal said. “I kind of liked it.”

“Neal…”

“It’s not...it’s not some stupid crush. Every Padawan gets that. I’m 24, Peter, I’m not a child. And I want what you have.” 

“A forbidden relationship?” Peter felt the bitterness creep into his voice. El deserved so much more than what he could give her. 

“Love,” Neal said.


	8. Chapter 8

The Temple burned. They could see the flames in the distance as Mozzie pulled the hover car out of Coruscant traffic. Neal dug his fingers into the seat rest. He itched from his scalp to his toes, and he knew the cause was whatever had attacked the Temple. “Peter…”

“I see it.” Peter frowned down at his comm. “I can’t raise anyone at all. Whoever did this has somehow cut off communications.”

“The younglings!” There were dozens of children in the creche. Neal saw the faces of Peter’s students, children he’d spent so much time with, and knew he had to get to them.

“You go to the creche. I’ll try to find the Council.” Peter pointed to the landing pad. “Set us down there, driver.”

Mozzie gave Neal a look, but it was a better option than explaining his presence to Peter right now. “Of course, sir.”

“No,” Neal said. “We can’t get separated.” Instinct told him that much. He and Peter did this together, or not at all.

Peter didn’t speak as Mozzie landed the hover car. “Council room first then. It’s closer.”

Neal didn’t like it, but he knew Peter was right. At the first opportunity he’d high tail it off to find the younglings. “Get somewhere safe,” he told Mozzie before jumping after Peter. 

“Be careful!” Mozzie called back.

The car roared to life and lifted up from the landing pad. Neal spared it a glance, wondering if he should have made Mozzie wait for them. They had no idea what was in store for them here.

“The gardens are burning,” Peter murmured. He had pulled his lightsaber from his belt, but hadn’t ignited it yet. 

Neal followed suit, stepping behind him as they moved through the too quiet landing area outside the Council spire. “Those are blaster burns.” They were on the ground, the walls, the pillars, everywhere.”

“Good job, eagle-eye.” A familiar voice called out. 

The hair rose on the back of Neal’s neck as he turned to face the Sith leaping down at them. Ke’llar had his lightsaber in his left hand, as the right arm ended in nothing. He laughed as he touched down. “You took something from me, I took something back.” With a flick of his thumb, another blade emerged from his lightsaber, forming it into a light staff. 

Neal had read about them, but he’d never seen one in the flesh before. He had his own blade up and guarding. 

“Follow my lead,” Peter murmured under his breath.

They rushed the Sith, but he was fast, using that double blade to keep them both at bay.

Neal couldn’t reach that same sense of calm that had let him defeat the Sith the first time. He remembered getting angry beforehand, but he was afraid of letting that happen again. Anger leads to suffering.

They were falling back, giving ground, when Neal spun and tried something different. The Sith reacted, swiping Neal’s legs out from under him and knocking him off the landing pad. Neal fell, for a moment weightless before he remembered to call the Force to himself to slow his landing. 

He dropped onto a balcony a few floors down, wrenching his ankle badly as he landed. 

“What’s wrong, Padawan? Hurt yourself?”

His blood crawled. Neal looked up to see Master Adler’s bulk blocking the way back into the Temple. “You’re alive.” Neal pushed himself to his feet. He’d lost his lightsaber in the fall, and he sent out a call for it.

“Really, you should have figured it out far sooner.” Adler was dressed in black from neck to toe. “I trained you better than that.”

The lightsaber hit his palm with a thump, and Neal felt better with its solid weight in his hand. “Oh? How was I supposed to figure out that you faked your own death and ripped apart our training bond?” Especially when Neal had been reeling from that broken bond, his mind torn and bruised. 

His thumb hovered over the switch. Neal hesitated. Maybe could finally learn the truth. The balcony was no place for a fight. 

“The bond never meant that much to me.” Adler’s face twisted into a smirk, and he paid no resemblance to the man who’d guided Neal for the past ten years. 

Rage burned like a ball of fire in Neal’s belly. The bond - the mark of his apprenticeship - meant everything to the Jedi. To hear Adler dismiss it like that…

But Neal had a real bond. His connection with Peter was deeper and more intense than anything he had with Adler. “Then I wondered why you bothered with me.”

“Neal, Neal, Neal, you don’t even know your own place in history.” Adler’s eyes gleamed. “You will change the very fabric of the Force. You will be the greatest Sith ever known in the entire galaxy.”

Neal felt the laughter bubble up, and he forced it down. “You’re assuming I’ll Fall.”

“I don’t assume, child. I plan. And I’ve planned for this moment since I scooped you up from the creche, Chosen One.” 

Adler moved and Neal braced himself for the fight, despite the close quarters. However, his former master pulled a holo cube from his belt and activated it. He didn’t expect to see the image that popped up - a perfect hologram of Kate, the girl he’d fancied himself in love with once upon a time. 

“No,” he whispered. Somehow Neal knew exactly what Adler had done, even before the holo shifted, turned into a scene. 

Kate ran, she ran so fast, but she could not go faster than a Sith Lord. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as Adler’s red lightsaber pierced her chest. 

The fire in Neal’s belly turned cold, a white ice that prickled throughout his body. His lightsaber ignited with little more than a thought, and he charged Adler, forcing the Sith backward, off the balcony and into the room beyond.

Adler skidded backward, but he kept his stance, flipping open his own weapon. “Fight me, Padawan. See how a true Sith battles.”

Neal didn’t speak. He went on the attack, his blows hacking strokes, with no finesse whatsoever. Adler blocked them easily. “More, more, give it to me!”

“You killed her! For what?” Neal gasped. 

Adler lifted one hand, and lightning sparked from his fingers, sending Neal flying across the room.

Everything went white.

***

Peter saw Neal go over the edge of the landing pad, just as he was dodging the Sith’s red blade. He rolled out of the way and scrambled to look over the side. Nothing came through the training bond, so he knew Neal hadn’t been killed. His Padawan could still be hurt.

“Oh, don’t worry about him.” The Sith’s voice crackled like his lightsaber. “I’d worry about you. My master doesn’t care if you live.”

“But he wants Neal to.” Peter back flipped out of the way. He held his saber loosely, looking for an opening. Eventually the Sith would grow impatient - that was a staple of their devotion to the Dark.

The Sith circled him, flipping that double blade in his single hand. The other sleeve of his robe hung empty and it gave Peter chills to see. “What? You want to know why? Won’t matter. You’ll die like the rest of the Jedi.”

“I don’t need you to tell me why,” Peter said. 

“You think you’re so smart you figured it all out? You got no clue.” 

The Sith moved in for an attack and Peter parried the blade easily. He spun off the parry, came around and under, and got through the Sith’s weak side, stabbing him neatly through the heart. Peter stepped out of the way as the body hit the ground.

“Neal.” He ran for the edge, when a pulse of rage through the training bond forced him to his knees. “Oh, Neal, no.”

Peter slipped into a meditation pose, following the thread of the bond. Neal needed him now.

***  
 _  
Neal.  
_  
Neal staggered to his feet. His body ached from the electrical charge, but he barely felt it. He wanted to charge across the room, and impale Adler with his own blade. Everything took on a haze, and time started to slow down just as it had in the club, when he’d defeated the first Sith.  
 _  
Padawan, listen to me. Look around you. Where are you?  
_  
Neal shook his head, almost, almost able to hear someone. Who? Who was the voice?

“Are you going to stare at me or are you planning on fighting?” Adler raised his hand again, but Neal moved out the way, suddenly faster than lightning. “Excellent, Padawan, excellent!”

“Not your Padawan,” Neal gasped. “Not anymore. Never again!”

He stepped back, and nearly tripped over a discarded mat. Neal looked around and realized they were in one of the meditation rooms. This was typically a place of calm and peace. Peter had brought him here many times to capture his center, to commune with the Force.

“Peter,” he murmured.

Neal reached for the training bond, and the connection came together with a snap. The rage still simmered inside him, and Neal could feel himself funneling it through to Peter.  
 _  
You can’t kill him in anger.  
_  
No, that would be the final blow, the thing that turned Neal exactly into what Adler wanted. But Neal didn’t care. Adler had killed Kate - merely because Neal had once cared for her. The Sith didn’t deserve to live.  
 __  
Neal, reach for me, please. It’s not too late.  
  
Adler had given up on waiting. He strode forward and sliced the air. Neal was forced to respond.

Still, he reached, desperate for Peter’s aid. He could not do it alone. 

Rage bubbled and simmered, so close to boiling it over. Neal held on to Peter’s lessons, to the quiet in the Force that Adler had never taught him. It wasn’t going to be enough. Nothing could stop anger like this.

Neal raised his lightsaber, knowing exactly how to strike to slice off Adler’s head and end this forever.

But then something came through the bond. Peter wasn’t alone. Elizabeth was there too. And she glittered golden and with love, and reminded him of everything that was good in the world. 

“I’ll never join you,” Neal told Adler, and let his lightsaber clatter to the floor.

“No!” Adler darted forward, but Neal didn’t move to defend himself.

He didn’t have to. The door slid open, and blaster fire erupted. Adler twisted in the air, and came down at an odd angle. He was still breathing, but barely.

Neal looked up at the doorway, shocked to see Mozzie standing there. “You didn’t think I’d leave you to the Jedi?”

The floor felt so soft when Neal slid down onto it. 

“Neal!” That was Peter’s voice, no longer in his head. Neal struggled to sit up. 

“No, rest.” Peter put his hand on Neal’s chest, and it was so warm. “The Council - what’s left of them - are fighting off the clone soldiers working for Adler. I need to help them.”

“The creche,” Neal gasped.

“Barricaded and safe.” Peter looked over at Mozzie and his eyes narrowed. Perhaps he realized their driver was a lot more than that. 

“I can help.” Neal pulled on that strength inside him. The rage had cleared from his head, though he knew it still lurked in his soul, ready to sprout if he wasn’t careful. “Let’s save the rest of the Jedi.”

Peter nodded. “Together, padawan.”

“Together.”


	9. Epilogue

After everything, they deserved this celebration. Neal straightened his dress robes for the fifth time, knowing they were perfect, but unable to stop fidgeting. He stood at the front of the line, just below the dais where Peter and El were exchanging vows. The rest of the hall was filled with Jedi.

There should be more of them.

And that was why Master Yoda had taken to the Jedi archives and found an old law that permitted Jedi to marry. They needed to stop the decline of Jedi in the galaxy, and the only way for more Force Sensitives to be born was to stop forbidding families. Neal thought that a better solution than scouring the galaxy for too precocious infants.

Peter had been the first to take advantage of the new law. He was also the hero of Coruscant, having killed one of the Sith, and Neal thought Peter could have demanded anything. But the only thing he wanted was his heart.

“Bonded now you are.” Yoda spoke the final words, and the crowd erupted in applause.

Peter and Elizabeth turned as one. She looked radiant in her turquoise dress, the light from the windows catching the crystals embroidered into the bodice. Peter shined just as much.

Neal stepped up onto the dais. They knew he was coming - the bond still thrummed between them, Peter and El both, since that moment it had saved Neal. Even his own knighting hadn’t severed it.

He took Elizabeth’s hand and looped his Padawan braid around her wrist. “It’s traditional to give this to one’s master upon knighting, but I thought it would be a better wedding present instead.” It’s a promise, he sent down their link. 

A promise of things to come.

end


End file.
